


For the Love of a Flower Crown

by Briarfox13



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 18:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14550780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briarfox13/pseuds/Briarfox13





	For the Love of a Flower Crown

Blackwall the Grey Warden gently huffed and blew a damp lock of dark hair from his eyes; it had been yet another tough fight with the Venatori out in the desolate wilds of the Western Approach. A Spellbinder had surprised them as the meagre group attempted to make camp that afternoon. The large smoking patch smouldering in the sun was the only evidence left of the mage. It had been a bloody but short-lived exchange, once the foot soldiers had arrived screaming Tevinter curses at them. Bramble had been magnificent, jumping here and there sending a hail of arrows down upon her foes like some vengeful goddess, or so Blackwall had thought. It had taken all his strength not to just stop and watch her as she battled. 

Bramble Lavellan was no more than a wee slip of a girl: naïve, silly, energetic, so young for this cruel world...and yet utterly perfect. Blackwall sighed deeply to himself, what had he let himself in for? This affection, this attachment, this _infatuation_ could lead only nowhere. It would all come crumbling down around him should she find out the truth, the truth that he had hidden for so long. 

A sudden noise distracted the ageing warrior from his stormy thoughts, causing him look up at the famed Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste who was searching frantically through her bag as though she’d find the means to defeat Corphyus in there or a cure to the Taint. 

“What ya looking for?” He barked curiously leaning on the hilt of his bloodied and battered sword. It seemed like forever before the young elf replied, entranced in her searching. 

“Bramble?” He prompted shifting uncomfortably under the blazing sun. The Western Approach was an unpleasant place to be in full armour with so few trees to act as relieving shade; Blackwall could feel his blood begin to boil and he ached for the relative cool of Griffin Wing Keep with its great arches and tall towers. 

“What? Oh sorry, I thought I found something in that cave in the snowy place you know the one with…” the Inquisitor replied before attempting to impersonate one of the Red Templars that they had encountered; using her bag as a make-shift shield and her hand as a sword. 

“You mean Emprise du Lion?” The warrior replied raising an eyebrow at the young elf as she returned to her rigorous searching, which became increasingly more violent as bits and pieces came flying from over her shoulder. Dorian ducked scowling as a broken arrow was thrown haphazardly in his direction.  


“Excuse me” the mage drawled turning in the Herald’s direction, as more random and broken objects started to litter the sand around their makeshift and ruined camp.  


“Sorry!” the auburn-haired elf replied momentarily raising her head from her task at hand a concerned look plastered across her freckled face. Blackwall grunted internally at how wonderful she looked under the desert sun, how her hair shone and her skin glowed.

Dorian huffed in reply and continued to sulk under the shade of a makeshift tent, Dorian almost always sulked much preferring to be in Skyhold’s extensive library.  


“Aha!” Bramble exclaimed loudly pulling some strange looking object from the bag, lifting it triumphantly in the air. Blackwall squinted at it, a hand shading iron-grey eyes from the ruddy late-afternoon. It was some sort of headpiece with flowers attached, which had surprisingly not wilted after being stuffed in her bag for the duration of the long journey from Emprise du Lion to the Western Approach. Suddenly the young woman froze, eyes wide like a rabbit as though she'd seen the ghost of the Divine herself. 

“Wait!!!!” She screamed loudly causing all three of her companions to jump in surprise. She spun around trying to hide her head from view as she tried to place the flower crown on her head as neatly as possible. And as suddenly as she’d spun away she turned back to her darling Blackwall. 

“What do you think?” Bramble Lavellan asked; white pearlescent flowers lying lopsided upon ginger locks that glowed red in the sunlight. Spring green eyes glowing brightly with happiness as the young elf danced around in the sand. By the Maker, the warden thought she was beautiful, utterly radiant and yet terribly silly.  


Blackwall continued to stare at the elf, an eyebrow raised at the strange adornment on her head, he couldn’t figure out why she would want to wear such a thing. Why not a helmet? Which offered far much more protection than some lyrium imbued flowers. And as quickly as her smile had appeared it was wiped from her face as she noticed his confused expression.  


“I look stupid? I do, don’t I?” Bramble mumbled making a move to take it off. Pale hands reaching to tear the offending thing from her head as tears glittered in the corners of her eyes. How could she have thought Blackwall would like it? Of course, she looked stupid. 

As his love attempted to wrench the offending thing from hair the Grey Warden quickly raised his hands, in an oddly human gesture to stop her.  


“No, no, no…” He hurriedly spoke striding closer to the woman. He gently reached out a hand and stroked one of the soft white petals in a gentle movement. The man let his hand trail down her hair to gently touch her cheek, fingers tracing the dark green vallaslin. 

Bramble stopped wrenching the crown and looked up at the older man, her ears twitching and cheeks red. Blackwall smiled gently watching his Inquisitor smile back.  


“You look beautiful Kitten, never take it off” he murmured gruffly leaning in for a kiss.


End file.
